


Tying all loose ends

by AnnaCipactli12



Series: New life, same story [2]
Category: Dune (kinda), Game of Thrones (TV), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: The epic conclusion to the my two part series on Arya and Sansa being reincarnated in our world. Enjoy!





	Tying all loose ends

They say that for every little wish you make on a star that an angel dies to make it true. I bet many angels die to make my wishes come true. The greatest wish was taking Sansa’s face, it felt good.

Now, not so good. I dream of my mother, my real mother, Catelyn Stark, at night. She asks ‘where is my baby?’ and I point a finger at myself. My hair cascades past my shoulders. Not the dirty black with streaks of brown in them that my father used to love but flaming red like hers.

She should be proud. I make sure she knows of the wonders I have accomplished. I’ve gone farther than the lady conqueror, the lady of the English, Matilda, but she frowns.

“That is not what I wanted from you.” Then she vanishes and I wake up. My hand goes down to my belly. He has seeded life into me.

“Were things different, you could have been my child from the start. Myrcella and my darling boys were weak. You were strong. Are you going to let that red-haired, doe-eyed whore beat you?” It is Cersei who speaks this time. She does not appear to me in the guise of Katharine of Aragon, but as she was. Proud and tall, the smile doesn’t reach her eyes but I know she is proud of me.

“Are you going to lift yourself up or are you going to stand down and remain a sheep? You are a wolf, a lion and a dragon. Be all those things. Let them fear you. Show them what you are.”

I do. When I find out that bastard has corresponded with my husband, I send her ass back to Hatfield House and when she pleads with me, reminding me of our sisterly bond and how innocent she is and that she would never do anything to hurt me, I send Gardiner to tell her that I am her mistress and that she should be begging for my forgiveness instead of pulling the same act.

I am not going to be bested by some silly little girl who only cares about pretty dresses and whose head is still stuck in the clouds. If she tries something else, I write in a letter, I won't hesitate again. And like last time, it will be me who thrusts the blade through her pretty skin.

The future of our dynasty lies within me. This child will bring me glory and it will return Gendry to my bed. I know it.

~o~

Sometimes we try to hold things together for politics’ sake, other times it is just for our sake. That is how I felt when Philip looked at Sansa. I still want to see her as my little sister, but every time she eyes me funny or looks at Philip sideways before fixating her glance at him, wearing the same make up our mother used to wear before her enemies brought her down.

I thought I’d feel guilty finding out that Anne Boleyn was my mother but in truth, I do not. She always preferred Sansa over me, so this is my way of paying her back for all those years of neglect.

After all, there is only room for one true Queen and that is me. I am and always will be the firstborn. I am the lone wolf, Ned Stark’s favorite child and Henry VIII’s trueborn daughter. This is my throne and nobody is going to take it away from me, much less a red-haired naïve little bastard like her.

~o~

It turns out, that red-haired bastard was smarter than I thought. I should have known she would have done something like this. Just as it was done to Cersei … my mother in this life.

I do not shed tears for my dead baby. He is dead. Deep down I am happy because I know that he is in a better place, surrounded by all his loved ones and if the prophecy Bran talked about in my dreams is true then I will be reunited with him soon.

~o~

When I die, I want to be surrounded by mother and father. I do not want to die after them.

But that is not what happens. Gendry has abandoned me. His eyes are filled with lust whenever they land on my sister. She is the next queen-to-be. My body won’t be cold before she changes my will and declares herself the sun queen. That is what people like her do.

She learned more from Cersei and my mother than she ever did from ours.

She should have been Cersei’s daughter, not me. Whatever the fates had planned for the two of us, they had fucked up big time.

Sansa was made in the image of the first Queen of Westeros while I remain “No One.” Those are the last words that escape my lips after I utter the dreaded word “Calais.” I was the strategist, Philip was the muscle. He was supposed to strengthen my nation but instead he was a good for nothing drunk and lust driven fool like his father.

“You cannot leave us, my lady. What will become of us?”

 _Oh my dear Jane Dormer, I wish I had all the answers but I am not a lady and I am not known for my tact like my sister._ Even if I was, I would not lie to a friend’s face. That is not me, and it is not how I will go down as.

Always holding on to the truth, being a survivor to the very end, I smile to her and nod to the Count de Feria. If she began to have second thoughts about remaining here, this will remind her why it is of the utmost imperative that she leave so a part of me lives through her and others who knew me.

Only they can tell the world the truth. Susan, Jane, Count de Feria and my other obedient ladies. They are rosary warriors, proud women who care more about their dignity and facing their fears head on than the frivolities that my sister preoccupies herself with. I can trust them with the truth because they’ve done more for me than my family has ever done.

I open my lips to say the words again. “No one” But no sound comes. The game is over for me, but it will never be over for Sansa. She will live the rest of her days, dealing with more misery than I could have ever wished for, even for my most hated my enemies.

Farewell sweet sister, may the dark angels continue to be by your side until you are taken by the angel of death. I have zero regrets except not being able to see what was in front of me much sooner. So many things could have been avoided.

Chapuys was right. She was my greatest rival. She tricked me, just like Littlefinger did and I was too taken by her innocent smiles (all fake like her love for me) to see it.

No chorus, no white light, and no heaven’s gate. There is only darkness and instead of St. Peter, there is Death in the form of Bran.

“There is still a chance.” He extends his hand then adds, “If you accept.”

It would be so easy. To go back and start a clean slate. “It is a tempting offer but I will not accept.”

“Pity” He says, “There is so much more you two can become. This is not the life you were meant for Arya.”

“What do you know of destiny? You could have said something, clarified the whole thing before I drove a dagger through her chest. If anyone was responsible of kinslaying it was you.”

“We are what we are. Nothing is just nothing. That is what you said to that old man, and to that little girl after the Hound hurt her father. You felt deeply sorrowful for her.”

“I did not.”

“You did. You cannot hide what you feel, Arya. Take my hand and we will make things better again.”

No -I am about to repeat but I think about Sansa, what father said about our family before he was imprisoned. “Sansa is your sister. You are stronger together than you are apart, when winter comes it is the pack that survives.” He was right of course, but Sansa was never a true Stark. Seven hells, she wasn’t even a true Tudor. God only knows what she really is since she swings from one side to another almost every day.

“She can’t be trusted.”

“Neither can you. There is so much for us to build. This world will be nothing but a dream and when the true spring comes, we will know that as dysfunctional as our family was, we needed it to protect what remains of mankind from the white walkers.”

“And if I refuse? What happens to this world?”

He looks down at his feet then up at me again with a pained expression in his face. “This world is doomed. You surely must have noticed that already when they crowned you. No morality, no trust, and no common sense.”

Sounds the same as our world. My expression gives my thoughts away. He adds, “Our first world still has a chance, this one never will. Mankind will progress farther than our ancestors could have ever dreamed of but they will waste away all their resources and when they do, they will go somewhere else and repeat the same until there is nothing left of this galaxy. It is not right.”

“If I accept, and that is a big If, Sansa has to, too and you have to tell us everything.”

“I will.” He promises. I take his hand and there is finally a blinding white light and I am back to where it all began.

Bran stands next to me, in his wheel chair. We are in his chambers and he stares down at the fire. “Did that really happen?” He nods. “Will Sansa come back soon?”

“Yes but it will be decades for her. She will have to pass through the eye of the storm before she is taken by the Stranger.”

“Could that world have had a chance if things went different?”

“Perhaps.” He says, trying to look deeper into the future of what might-have-been but when he turns to me, he is still unsure. “The future is always in motion. I saw magic eons after Earth’s destruction. A line of savior, human copies. They were called gholas, and great war machines defeated by the ones who were promised.”

“If it was possible why bring me back then?” I demanded. As a little girl I was intrigued by magic but even more by human creativity. It was that creativity that sprung some of the greatest inventions on Earth. To have all of that gone, was unfair. But I made my choice and I have to live with it.

Bran shrugs. “I needed company. Westeros is more than just us. It is what decides the fate of this world and many more to come. Someday … we could birth that future too.”

I doubt it. With dragons and magic, why would people have any need of using their brains to get off this rock when they had all the comfort they needed? Their leaders would use that power to kill those who perform ‘heretical experiments’, sending a message to all those curious enough to expand on their work.

“Not all hope is lost Arya. Magic and human creativity can co-exist. Do not lose what hope you have. You are our father’s daughter and you held a kingdom in crisis for five years. If anyone can bring down our enemies, it is you.”

I do not need to be comforted but I sense no deception in Bran. I go to sit on his bed. When Sansa ‘arrives’ she will be mad. We will bicker and Bran as the omniscient being and darling sibling that he is, will be here to remind us of what is important.

“I just hope you are right.” I say before I shift my head toward the door and see Elizabeth (no, Sansa, I correct myself) coming in.


End file.
